


Methos Chronicles 28

by Helis_von_Askir



Series: Methos Chronicles [28]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29465808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: A little trip to Spain.
Series: Methos Chronicles [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350058
Kudos: 5





	Methos Chronicles 28

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Highlander doesn't belong to me, more's the pity. Have fun.

Methos hated dressing up. What was wrong with comfortable clothes? But the museum had issued a strict dress-code for the evening and Marique had threatened with dire consequences if he didn’t comply. At least he didn’t have to wear a tux. A suit was bad enough in the summer heat of Barcelona.

“Try to look a little less miserable, will you?” Marique asked and handed him a glass of champagne.

“I don’t understand why we have to be here. You already lent them the paintings.” Methos muttered into his glass. Not even beer, no, only champagne. What was wrong with these people?

Marique rolled her eyes. “Once your paintings are sought after by museums you can demand that they throw you a pool party. I’m perfectly fine with an exhibition in one of the best museums in Spain.”

“Hmm, pool party. Now there’s an idea. I wouldn’t mind getting you out of that dress.” Methos whispered against her ear. Not that it was an ugly dress or anything, quite on the contrary. A deep red shoulder-less affair with a long skirt cut nearly to her hip. What was there not to like? He just liked it even more when he could rip it off of her.

“Now, behave.” Marique grabbed his hand before it could travel where it shouldn’t, at least not in public. “You promised me not to scare the natives.”

“Just a little bit?” Methos asked hopefully, but before Marique could answer him, they both felt the Buzz. “Expecting someone?” He asked.

Marique shook her head while scanning the room. “No.”

A moment later Amanda glided in drawing attention to herself like only she could, trailing behind her was Nick Wolfe, looking as uncomfortable in his suit as Methos felt.

“I swear, if she touches one of my paintings…” Marique muttered under her breath.

“She won’t, besides, you painted the damned things over two hundred years ago under a guy’s name. She probably doesn’t even know they are yours.” Methos pointed out. Marique had hit a very creative streak in the late 19th century and created a slew of wonderful paintings. Of course she had to sell them under a man’s name because no one would have taken a female artist seriously back then. Nowadays they were as sought after as a Matisse.

Amanda spotted them quickly and sauntered over to them while Wolfe followed slowly. He looked at them suspiciously. Methos couldn’t blame him. Going by his, admittedly short, Chronicle whenever one of Amanda’s immortals friends and/or foes showed up, Wolfe ended up in some king of trouble.

“Fancy meeting you two here.” Amanda greeted them. Methos got a quick kiss on the cheek, Marique a cold glance. “Nick, say hello.”

“Nice meeting you.” Wolfe said. He kept looking around like he was waiting for something, or someone.

“Something the matter?” Methos wanted to know.

Amanda looked at him innocently. “No, why do you ask?” Too bad Amanda didn’t do innocent.

“Because your friend here looks like he’s ready to jump at the next shadow.” Marique pointed out with a cold smile.

Amanda rolled her eyes and took Wolfe’s arm rather forcefully. “We’re just helping out a friend with some business, that’s all.”

“And that would be…?” Marique trailed off expectantly.

“Nothing we can talk about.” Amanda finished. “Spy stuff and such, you know. See you two around.” And with that she led Wolfe off to wherever, hopefully the bar. Wolfe looked like he could use a drink or three.

“Spy stuff, really?” Marique muttered.

Methos shrugged. “Wolfe does have a friend in that line of work. Meyers, used to work undercover behind the Iron Curtain back in the day. You know such people, they never leave the jot, not really, even if they head in the private sector.”

“And you know all that because…?” Marique prompted.

“Because Amanda likes to hang around MacLeod and I like to know what baggage she has in tow. And that includes her students and their friends.” Methos explained. “Besides, it’s nice for once to know something you don’t.”

“One day your paranoia is going to get you in some real trouble.” Marique told him. “And I really don’t want to know anything about Amanda and her boy toys.”

“Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out there to get me.” Methos pointed out with a smile.

Marique and Amanda kept their distance from one another. Which was probably just as well. Methos wasn’t interested in an immortal cat-fight. It might be entertaining, scratch that, it would be very entertaining, but the property damage would go in the hundred thousands of Euros.

The evening passed slowly and Methos really wanted to just head home. The completely irrelevant things people could talk about for hours was astonishing to him, it would have been funny if it wasn’t so boring.

“You’re an artist too, remember?” Marique pointed out when he ranted to her about it. “And a collector.”

“Yeah, but not like them. I actually know what I’m doing.” Methos informed her.

Marique smiled at him. “Oh, poor baby, surrounded by imbeciles. How about once we’re home I make it up to you.”

“In the pool?” Methos wanted to know.

“In the pool.” Marique promised her smile growing inviting.

Methos returned her smile. He knew it had been a good idea get that indoor/outdoor pool. He had insisted on it the last time he had his house here in Barcelona renovated only a couple of years ago. The architect had been horrified at the mutilation of a historical building like that but it wasn’t under any kind of preservation order or something.

Besides he had owned the house for over three hundred and fifty years, it had needed a serious overhaul. Though he had made sure that the things his wife from back then had added remained. He had been rather fond of Camellia. And Sancha.

Barcelona, Spain, 1648 AD

The war was officially over. He had taken them long enough, Methos thought. The Peace of Westphalia had taken a long time coming together but for now it looked like it was going to hold.

Methos had left the German lands more than ten years ago and he had no intention of returning anytime soon. His life in Barcelona was good. He had a successful business and made a lot more money than trading horses in Nürnberg. Maybe if they managed to hold the peace for a couple of decades than he would visit again.

All of Europe was taking a relieved breath, in the meantime. It wouldn’t be long until the next war would break out, it never did, but there was a hope that it wouldn’t be as bad as this one had been.

“Are you going to expand into the German lands now, Juan?” Hernando Suarez wanted to know. They were sitting in their favorite tavern, watching a young girl dance gracefully.

Methos shrugged. “Not just yet. Let’s see if the peace really holds, then sure, there’s a big market there.” He was currently trading in spices, woods and other things from Africa. He wasn’t into slavery, the new and rising business as the demand for cheap work-forces in the New World grew. He had been over owing other people for a while now, probably because he had been a slave himself a few too many times.

Hernando nodded. “A careful man, I like that. A man like you can go a long way in life.”

Methos smiled at his friend. Hernando wasn’t the most subtle of men. “And how far exactly is that?”

“You could sell directly to the court in Madrid with the right connections.” Hernando pointed out.

“Connections you have.” Methos nodded. “Hernando was related to the cousin of the queen around several corners but still close enough to offer some advantages.

“Indeed I do, I also have a daughter in need of a husband. And since your wife passed away, God rest her soul, you’re in need of a new wife.” Hernando said with a triumphant smile, having made an irrefutable argument in his opinion.

Marie, his German wife, had died three years ago from a fever. Methos hadn’t felt the need to find a new wife or even take a lover in the time since then. That may seem strange to mortals but he had spent longer times without companionship in the past. He sometimes needed that.

“Your daughter is what, eight? A bit young to marry her off.” Methos pointed out. He didn’t like little girls, or little boys, they were just too small for his tastes, not enough meat on them as Silas used to call it.

“Nearly eleven, not exactly a beauty in the making, I’ll be honest, but very well educated. I hired the best teachers many could buy for her. Marry her now and she’ll be the perfect wife for you in a few years.” Hernando explained.

Methos didn’t doubt his words. Hernando loved his children, even the girl, and wanted what he thought was the best for them. He was considered rather odd because of that of that but he was rich enough to get away with it. Not that he expected his daughter to actually use most of what she was taught, but it was the sentiment that counted.

And Methos wouldn’t have to share her bed with her right away. It would be four, five years before the church considered her old enough to be bedded. And if there was one thing that mattered in Spain then it was the Holy Mother Church. He didn’t care about it one way or another, but if it allowed him get out of something because of it, then he was all for it.

And the connection Hernando would over would be good for business. “Alright, then I guess I better get my house cleaned up to welcome my new bride.”

Hernando laughed heartedly and slapped Methos on the shoulder, calling for a new round for him and his future son-in-law.

The wedding was held as soon as Hernando could arrange it. He seemed to fear that Methos would change his mind once he saw the girl. Camellia was indeed not exactly a beauty but then she was only eleven. Methos had known countless less than average looking girls who had grown into beautiful women. And even if not, a successful marriage didn’t rely on good looks.

Besides, Camellia also had a governess who would come along to finish her education and Sancha Marquez was a very good looking twenty year old woman. Hernando had wanted to dismiss her because married woman didn’t have governesses, but Methos had told her that he would keep her on until Camellia was older. He didn’t have the time to tech his new little wife how to run a household. Since Sancha had no marriage prospects herself, her family having fallen on really hard times, she was all too glad for a secure position for a few more years.

Business was going good. So good in fact, that Methos hardly ever was at home. For the first six months of his marriage he saw his new wife exactly three times.

When he returned home for the fourth time he found Camellia and Sancha in the garden playing a ball game. They hadn’t noticed his arrival yet and Methos watched them unobserved. They both seemed to be enjoying themselves quite thoroughly. Ah, to be so young and carefree again. He was starting to have trouble recalling his mortal days. It appeared that even Immortals could start to forget things if they just lived long enough.

“Senor Rajoy.” Sancha gasped suddenly surprised and dipped a quick courtesy. “We didn’t expect you back so early.”

Camellia bobbed one too and then tried to hide behind Sancha’ skirts. Despite his best attempts his little wife was quite afraid of him.

“The negotiations went far better than expected.” Methos told her. “Don’t let me stop from your play. I merely stopped by to give you this, Camellia. I’m sorry I missed your nameday.”

He held out a little package and Camellia took it shyly. “Thank you, Senor.” She whispered. It was a silver necklace with a Celtic knot. Nothing fancy, but Methos had thought that Camellia might like it. And she seemed to do. When she saw the necklace her face broke into a smile and thanked him again.

“Now run along you two. I’ll see you at dinner.” Methos told them and left for his rooms. He needed a long bath and fresh clothes.

Camellia wore her new necklace at dinner and she fingering it with a happy smile. It seemed that Methos wasn’t quite as hopeless with women as some of his past wives had accused him of being. But then Camellia was only twelve. At that age most girls were easy to satisfy.

Later that evening, Methos took a stroll through the garden at the back of his estate, just enjoying the cool and quiet air, when he heard a noise from the old bathhouse. He stopped to listen and after a moment a small smile played across his lips.

_How interesting_ , he though and silently entered the old building.

A small lamp was casting a flickering light over Sancha who sat at the edge of the bath with her hand between her legs. Her eyes were closed in concentration, and hopefully pleasure, and she didn’t see him come closer until he stood in front of her.

“Senor!” she exclaimed and hurriedly pushed her skirts down when she finally noticed him. “I…I…”

He gently stopped her frantic movements. “It works better if you do it like this.” Methos said and laid his hands on hers and guided it back under her skirts.

Slowly he pushed both their fingers inside her, taking his time for Sancha to feel what he was doing. The young woman gasped when they hit that perfect spot and he kept going at it, driving her towards her peak but not letting her fall over.

“Senor, please…I…” she stammered.

Methos smiled and kissed her while he freed himself from his pants. He was hard already and quickly replaced their fingers with his cock. Sancha panted heavily as he stretched her. Methos took hold of her hips once he was fully sheathed. He slowly kissed her again and then started to move. Gently, carefully, Sancha was still a maiden and he didn’t want to scare her off. Some women were very sensitive in that regard.

Once he was through that barrier he stopped. It was now too late to undo the damage but it was still up to her if she wanted to continue.

“The deed is done, Senor, you might as well continue.” She eventually said, not angry or hurt, more resigned.

Methos snorted a laugh. “I’m sorry, but usually women are a bit more…enthusiastic about this.”

“I am…I just…I can’t think right now, Senor, please, let’s finish.” Sancha told him. “It does feel rather nice.”

He kissed her deeply and started to thrust into her. He took her slowly, driving her slowly to her orgasm, making sure that she really was enjoying her before letting go himself.

Afterwards Sancha quickly adjusted her dress and nearly fled back to the house. Methos didn’t stop her. He redressed himself and followed at a slower pace. It wouldn’t do for the household to see them together like this. Even the slightest gossip would ruin her, though why women with no prospects shouldn’t at least have some, was beyond him.

Sancha closed the door of her room and fell to her knees, paying reverently. What had driven her to commit this sin? Pleasuring herself was bad enough, but now she had committed adultery with the husband of her charge.

Oh, would Camellia ever be able to forgive her? Would the almighty Lord? She prayed for hours before exhaustion forced her to bed.

The next morning, Methos was working in his study when there was a knock on the door. “Enter.” He called.

Sancha opened the door and slipped inside. She looked pale and nervous and Methos had a good idea what she was here for.

“I would like to ask for my dismissal, Senor.” Sancha stated when she stood before his desk.

Methos sighed. “Take a seat, Sancha.”

Once the young woman sat at the edge of the chair, Methos continued. “I don’t wish to dismiss you. Camellia is very fond of you.”

“But I’ve betrayed her, we both did. We fornicated in sin.” Sancha whispered with tears in her eyes.

Of course, the Church was almighty in Spain and Sancha had been raised a good Christian girl. Sex, in whatever form, was sin, even in marriage it had to be endured, not enjoyed, at least by women. Method didn’t see it that way. And now he had to convince Sancha that that it was okay to take pleasure for herself.

“If you could forget about sin for a moment, Sancha. Did you like being with me? Because I enjoyed last night very much. I don’t want to hurt Camellia, quite on the contrary, but I do have needs, and so do you.” He said. He wasn’t above a bit of manipulation to get what he wanted. “She’s too young for the marriage bed and my only other option would be the prostitutes in town. Would be that more to your liking?”

Sancha looked horrified. “No, Senor, certainly not. But…could you not…stay abstinent?”

Methos smiled a little. “That isn’t as easy as it sounds. Sancha, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. If you don’t wish to continue then we won’t. But please don’t leave Camellia. She still needs you.”

After a moment, Sancha nodded hesitantly. “I will stay, but last night cannot be repeated, Senor.”

Methos nodded. “As you wish.”

With another nod Sancha stood and left the study. Methos looked after her. Such a serious, dedicated young woman. He would bide his time. For now Sancha would stay. He would coax her back to his bed later.

A few weeks later Camellia and Sancha returned from a visit to Camellia’s mother to find unexpected guests in the house.

“Ah, there are my tow fine ladies.” Methos greeted them and took Camellia in his arms. “Please, allow me to introduce you. Camellia, Sancha, this is my good friend Father Darius and his student Brother Jerome.” They’re honouring us with their presence for a few days.”

“Only until our ship is seaworthy again. The storm took us quite by surprise.” Darius said with a low bow to the women.

“You are most welcome in our hours, good Father.” Camellia curtsied perfectly, just like Sancha had taught her. Sancha, of course, curtsied quite a bit deeper. “And you, good Brother.” Camellia turned to Jerome, who couldn’t be much older than Camellia and was blushing furiously.

Darius smiled at her. “Thank you, Senora, you are most kind.”

“Why don’t you two show Jerome the estate, while Father Darius and I catch up? There’s still some time until dinner.” Methos suggested.

“Of course.” Camellia smiled happily. This was the first time she was asked to fulfill her duty as wife and lady of the house. This was important to her and she seemed so very eager to do well. Methos had no doubt that she would to exactly that. She took the boy’s arm and almost dragged him into the inner garden, a smiling Sancha in tow.

“You have quite the impressive young lady there.” Darius commented as Methos led him to his study.

“Indeed I have.” Methos agreed.

“Have you consumed the marriage yet?” Darius asked a bit too innocently.

Methos gave him an annoyed look. “You know me better than that. When have I ever liked children in my bed. I’ll wait until she fifteen or sixteen, when’s she starting to fill those dresses out. Besides, she’s not even bleeding yet.”

Darius smiled at him. “And the lovely governess? She’s quite the beauty and of a good age.”

Methos shrugged. “You’re the last person interested in that. But yes, once, not exactly planned but all the more enjoyable for that. And it won’t happen again.”

“Really?” Darius sounded unconvinced. “I find that answer vague and unconvincing.”

“Really.” Methos stated. “Starting to reconsider your…vocation?”

Now it was Darius’ turn to shrug. “No, I’m just curious.”

Methos scoffed and sat down, indicating the other chair to Darius. “If you say so. Now, tell me what you’ve been up to, old friend.”

At dinner Camellia and Jerome couldn’t stop talking. It was like the two had known each other forever. The others left them to it and Darius told them about his time in Italy where he had picked up Jerome to take him back to France where he was to join a monastery.

“Forgive me being so ignorant, but why not travel overland? Is the distance not shorter?” Sancha asked.

Darius nodded. “It is indeed, but it’s also more dangerous, especially at this time of the year. The alps are only passable during summer and we have late autumn. With favourable winds we’ll be in Le Havre within three weeks if the ship doesn’t get damaged again.”

“Why not hire a new one?” Methos asked. “We got a hundred here, I lend you one of mine, if you want.”

“A kind and generous offer, my friend. But the ship we travel on now belongs to Jerome’s family and they insist on it taking us our destination.” Darius explained with an amused shrug.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to insult the family, would we?” Methos grinned.

When Camellia retired later in the evening, Sancha accompanied her to help her get ready for bed.

“Jerome is such a nice and wonderful man, don’t you think?” Camellia asked dreamily.

“He seems a fine young gentleman.” Sancha agreed while running the brush through Camellia’s hair. “And he belongs to the Holy Mother Chruch, and you already have a very kind husband.”

“Oh, I know, I like Senor Juan, but he’s so…old.” Camellia sighed.

Sancha had to bite the inside of her cheek to not burst out laughing. Camellia was in that phase where she expected to live in a fairy tale.

“Not too old to give you some strong sons soon.” Sancha pointed out.

Camellia huffed. “That’s years away yet, I haven’t even started to bleed yet.”

Sancha planted kiss on Camellia’s head. “It will come.”

Sancha came to Methos’ study when he was reading one of his books before retiring. Darius was already asleep and he found a need of some more entertainment. “Camellia is asleep?” he asked when he noticed her standing in the doorway, waving her in.

“Yes, Senor,” Sancha replied and closed the door behind her. Methos gave her a curious look. “It’s just…she’s very taken with Brother Jerome.”

Methos smiled. “He’s a fine young man, and soon gone again.”

“Yes, but she is very familiar with him. Maybe a bit too familiar to be perfectly proper.” Sancha stated. “I just don’t want her to do something foolish.”

“She’s thirteen, Sancha. I doubt she knows how to that.” Methos pointed out.

Sancha blushed. “I knew the…technicalities at thirteen, Senor, I just had a mother keeping out of trouble.”

“Than that will be your task, Sancha,” Methos replied. “And I know where you’re going with this, but I won’t bed her before she is really a woman. It wouldn’t be good for her.”

Sancha blushed again. “Yes, Senor, but I believe she yearns for the time when she will be a true wife, and mother.”

“And she will be all that,” Methos assured her. “When she’s ready.”

“And what about me?” Sancha asked and stepped closer to him. “Can I be a true woman too?”

Methos put the book away, taking her hand and pulling her down onto his lap. “If that is what you want, you certainly can.”

Present Day

Insistent pounding woke them early in the morning. The sun hadn’t even risen.

“I hate that woman.” Marique muttered under her breath and rolled over in bed while Methos stood up and grabbed some clothes. He put them on a he made his way to the front door.

“You’re not endearing yourself to anyone here, Amanda.” He informed her when he opened the door. “And you look…interesting.”

Dishevelled might be the better word for it. Both Amanda and Wolfe looked like they had just survived a heavy metal festival in pouring rain. Their clothes were quite ruined.

“Yes, well, we ran into some complications.” Wolfe stated. “Are you going to let us in?”

Methos crossed his arms in front of him. “I’m still thinking about it. What complications?”

“A lot heavier security than we were anticipating for one.” Amanda said with utter dignity.

“And for another?” Methos was starting to enjoy this.

“Rabid dogs.” Amanda hissed. “Now, let us in before someone sees us.”

Methos slowly stepped aside. “Fine, but if you ruin the carpet you pay for it.”

“Yeah, yeah, send me the bill.” Amanda waved him away and made a beeline for the bathroom. How she even knew where it was Methos didn’t want to consider. She had never been here before, but then she shouldn’t know where the house was in the first place.

“Ah, I’m afraid, with you I have to insist on cash.” Methos called after her.

Amanda gave him the finger before closing the door behind her. Wolfe looked around the hallway somewhat lost. Methos took pity on him. “There’s a shower by the pool, come on.”

Once the two Immortal were dry and in clean clothes they all sat down in the kitchen. Marique had made some coffee though she really hated the stuff and had a big cup of tea for herself. Cradling their own cups Amanda and Wolfe were looking like naughty children waiting for their parents to read them the riot act.

“So, what’s this about?” Methos finally asked.

“Well, we told you that we were doing a favour for a friend, right?” Amanda started hesitantly.

“Which in your case probably means stealing something.” Marique stated calmly.

Amanda gave her an angry look before continuing. “We were supposed to get some data from a guy. And he stole the data first from a friend of our friend. So, it’s not really stealing.”

“Sure it is.” Marique muttered between sips.

“It’s about medical data, alright?” Wolfe spoke up. “A vaccine for some virus, Ebola, I think. Whoever gets the patent first gets to make billions of dollars.”

“And what when wrong with liberating this medical data?” Methos asked. “Aside from rabid dogs.”

Amanda made a disgusted face. “Nothing, at first. The main guy was at the museum, I did my usual thing getting close to him and put a bug on him. The plan was to hack in remotely and get the data back. But that didn’t work. The moment he stepped into his house we lost the connection, so we had to go in ourselves.”

“So he had a scrambler, there are way around that.” Methos pointed out. “What happened then?”

Amanda sighed. “We waited for a while and then went in. Which was not easy because there are about a hundred guards patrolling the grounds, some of them with those blasted dogs.”

“But you got in.” Marique stated.

“Of course we got in.” Amanda sniffed insulted that anyone would doubt her abilities. “We even got our hands on the data. But on the way out one of the dogs caught our scent and went nuts. They started to hunt us and we ended up in the water.”

“They lost our trail.” Wolfe continued. “And we lost the data.”

“Don’t tell me that friend of your friend doesn’t have a backup copy.” The old Immortal said.

Wolfe shook his head. “He doesn’t.”

“Well, that’s just stupid.” Methos stated. “Are you planning to taking diving lessons now?”

“Maybe,” Amanda ran her hands through her still wet hair. “We’ll have to talk to Meyers first.”

“Not from here, you don’t.” Methos informed her. “Go back to your place for that.”

“Aren’t you just the best host ever?” Amanda asked sarcastically.

Methos wasn’t smiling. “I don’t like it when people bring their trouble to my door. You should know that by now.”

Barcelona, Spain, 1653 AD

Methos was saddling his horse when he felt another Immortal close by. Grabbing his sword, a slim, light rapier and headed outside the stable. It was still early and no one else was around for now.

“Manuel Roque.” The man in his courtyard introduced himself.

“Juan Rajoy, and I don’t remember having a quarrel with you.” Methos told him.

“No,” Roque grinned. “But the one I want has slipped my grip and you’re just convenient. I lost her around here, I’ll find her again and then she’ll pay.”

“Charming.” The old Immortal muttered. “And who is _her_ , if I may ask?”

“She calls herself Amanda, that thieving whore. She stole every last crown from me!” Roque screamed. “I want a head and if I can’t have hers, I take yours.”

Methos supressed a sigh. Amanda why was he not surprised?

“Or I could offer you some wine and you calm down and walk away.” Methos suggested.

“I don’t think so” Roque sneered. “Shall we head over there?” he indicated a field a bit off.

“A bit too exposed for my tastes.” Methos replied. “There’s a ruined villa down the road, I’m sure you passed it on your way to my door.”

“Fine by me.” Roque said and led the way.

Their fight was vicious. Amanda really must have pissed him off. And Methos would make sure to tell her the next time he saw her to keep her troubles out of his life or she would regret it.

Roque suddenly stumbled over a piece of fallen brick and barely recovered to block Methos’ stroke he took several hasty steps back and ended up on a wooden part of the floor. Before Methos could attack again, the wood gave away, it must have been rotten, and Rogue fell away.

“How convenient.” Methos muttered and jumped after the other Immortal. He landed in a crouch, his sword up and ready.

Roque was laying on the ground, his left leg obviously broken, his blade out of reach. He was trying to crawl to it but Methos quickly picked it up.

“Well, this is unfortunate for you.” He said leisurely. “”you should have kept going after Amanda.”

“Yes, I should have.” Roque agreed. “Be quick about it.”

Methos was happy to oblige.

Present Day

“That was over three hundred and sixty years ago.” Amanda pointed out annoyed. “And I never thought Manuel would come after me for so long. It wasn’t that much money. Though I’ve been wondering why I haven’t run into him again.

“Well, I’m glad I could clear that up for you. Now, shoo, go away with your world-saving medicine.” Methos made a shooing gesture with is hands.

Marique chuckled into her cup and Wolfe’s eyebrows hid in his hairline. Amanda looked terrible annoyed and stood with a huff.

“Well, I now when I’m not welcome, Come on, Nick.” She stalked towards the door.

“Have fun, don’t call, don’t write.” Methos called after her.

Marique burst out laughing and Nick hurried after Amanda shaking his head. He probably thought they were all insane.

End


End file.
